Lovers For A Night
by kaycarolina
Summary: Richonne AU. Friends since college, Rick and Michonne reconnect at a charity ball, deciding to act on their ever-present attraction to one another. They agree to spend the night together on the condition they would go back to being friends the next day. No zombies.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello, hello. This was inspired by the song 'Say Goodbye' by Dave Matthews Band. It was initially going to be a little one-shot featuring Rick and Michonne as old friends who decide to get together one night after an event. But the story kept growing, as I kept adding details (read: wordy) and one by one, more of TF would knock on my door and let themselves right in, demanding to be included. It evolved into a reunion of sorts, at an annual benefit. This is a shorter story; just a few chapters, however, it may be an arc to add to later. This story is almost finished with some final editing needed. I've also got a ton of ideas for the story of when all of them first become friends in college. I'm slapping an M on it because you know what's coming (I mean, it's in the title). And that pun was intentional. Please enjoy.

* * *

 _Lovers For A Night_

The Cherokee Rose Foundation's charity ball was well into its second hour when Michonne arrived at the Renaissance Lakes Country Club. She tucked the valet ticket into her clutch and stood in the sprawling atrium, taking in the stylish transformations made for the Greene family's annual children's benefit. The black, white and red décor was fitting and distinctive of the Monte Carlo theme, however, the guests wore any color of their choosing, as encouraged in their invitations and by word of mouth. In its fourth year, the ball had become a grand affair, gaining more publicity, attendance and patronage with each passing year. The Cherokee Rose Foundation was officially founded eight years ago, but Hershel Greene had been informally raising, employing and supporting fosters and orphans long before then, Rick Grimes being one of his first. The benefit brought in thousands of dollars to support the Foundation's mission and purpose.

As was her habit, Michonne stopped beneath the chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling. The fixture spanned over four feet across, the light from the candelabra bulbs casting a bit of joy and expectation throughout the entrance. She found it magical. It reminded her of a fountain, the crystal elements sparkling and seeming to flow with a sense of renewal, promising change and restoration. It always filled her with hope and promise. She took a deep breath and decided to let go of the frustrations stemming from earlier in the evening. She set her mind to enjoying the dancing, gaming tables, auction and catered fare on deck for the evening. And spending time with her friends; it had been too long since they were all together. The last time being the somber occasion of Hershel's funeral. She smiled at the guests passing by, admiring women in ball gowns and evening dresses, men in tuxedos and three piece suits, some holding drinks and others with plates of food. They were all in good spirits and wearing cheerful smiles, united for the purpose of finding and providing forever homes for neglected and abandoned children. She decided to join them in their amicable mood.

Michonne removed her pashmina shawl for the coat check, revealing the cobalt-blue gown she'd purchased off the rack at Monique's Closet. The halter top wrapped over her shoulders and fastened behind her neck, leaving the majority of her back exposed except for several bands holding the bodice in place. The skirt of the gown was bunched at the small of her back and cascaded to the floor, flowing, but clinging to her curves when she moved. Her dark skin sparkled in the light, made even more luminescent by the glitter infused body lotion she wore.

She hurried through the atrium, sidestepping small clusters of people as she made her way to the Magnolia Room, where intimate concerts and private auditions were often held. She hoped she hadn't arrived too late. Beth and Noah were only scheduled to play twice and this was their last performance. She slipped inside the room and stayed near the door as every seat was already taken. At the other end of the room, Beth stood on the small raised stage wearing an ankle-length paisley bohemian dress and holding her violin tucked under her chin. Her blond hair was gathered into a single braid that rested over her left shoulder, her eyes focused on the play sheets as she swept the bow back and forth over her violin. Noah was seated to her left, his back straight as he played an upright. He was stylish and sophisticated in a long tailed tuxedo and fresh haircut, following his own music sheet and glancing at Beth for cues on how fast or slow to keep the tempo. Within moments, Michonne recognized the familiar melody of _Dance With My Father_. The duo played their instrumental rendition beautifully, the violin and piano harmonious, indicative of many hours of practice and study.

"Aren't they doing great?" Maggie whispered as she sidled up next to Michonne. "Ever since you suggested this song, they've practiced it every day so they could play it tonight. She's come so far on the violin. This was good for her. She wanted to honor Daddy with more than just singing. Daddy would have just. . ." Maggie voice trailed off as she realized that Beth wouldn't be playing the song if Hershel had been there. Michonne hugged Maggie and they kept their arms linked as other as they continued to watch.

Beth's eyes closed and she swayed gently as she stroked the final notes from her violin. From the back of the room, Michonne could see the tears on Beth's cheeks and her own eyes watered as memories of Hershel washed over her. Meeting him freshman year when he dropped off Maggie to their dorm room, her first visit to the Greene farm when he'd told her she was always welcome, providing references for her when she applied to law school and again when she passed the bar and was ready to begin her career. He'd made sure she knew was part of their family, that she belonged. Hershel had become a mentor and role model for many of them; full of humility after overcoming his own demons. He'd given sage advice and unconditional support; he loved life and loved all of them. Young Beth had been preparing for her senior year in high school when Hershel had died the previous summer. As expected, she was having a difficult time and her grief was affecting her school work and grades. Maggie sometimes joked that her only goal in life was getting Beth to graduation, but in reality, she struggled with providing Beth the emotional support and space she needed to mourn. They were on their second therapist and the most recent conference at school had laid out the extra assignments Beth would need to complete to earn her diploma.

Once they finished, Michonne and Maggie clapped enthusiastically. Beth found them at the back of the room and her smile widened. Noah raised his hand in half-wave to them as he grinned. Maggie blew them kisses and then gave several piercing whistles. Beth blushed and bowed before taking Noah's hand as they bowed together. A cellist waited to play next and Beth and Noah hurried off the stage. Michonne and Maggie walked out into the atrium before the next performance began.

"You look fantastic," Michonne complimented her. Maggie's recent pixie cut framed her face, highlighting her cheekbones and shining eyes. Her tangerine-colored gown had a high empire waist with multi-layered tulle that floated softly to her ankles. It hadn't been shared among all their friends yet, but Michonne knew Maggie's dress hid a growing baby bump.

"So do you," Maggie returned. "Your hair is gorgeous. I love when you wear it up." She pointed to the up-do Michonne had twisted her locs into.

"Thanks. I'm sorry I'm late," Michonne said as she and Maggie hugged again. She let Maggie pull away first. "I'm so glad I didn't miss them perform. They did a great job."

"Yes, they did. They were a bit nervous the first time around, but they still did good."

"How are you holding up?" Michonne asked, rubbing Maggie's arm. They had spoken that morning and Michonne knew how tough this first event without Hershel was for Maggie.

"Everything is going smoothly. The jazz band, the caterers, the auction attendants. I know this is what the committee does and to let them work their magic but I felt I needed to be more involved. As a way to honor Daddy, but I just kept getting in the way. Glenn tried to tell me. I knew this wouldn't be easy, but I miss Daddy so bad. I keep trying not to cry."

Michonne nodded. "Where is Glenn?" she asked, noting his absence from Maggie's side.

"You just missed him. One of the Peletier's maiden mares is foaling and seems to be stuck in stage two, so he went out there to see if he could help things along. There's not much he'll be able to do, but it could take several hours still."

"What about Daryl going out? He's good with the animals."

Maggie nodded. "Yeah, but not as good with people, so we didn't want him going out there on his own. At least not yet. Ed and Carol Peletier are new to the county with a full stable. They really just need to have their hands held and know that their new vet is responsive and dependable. Glenn's really trying to sustain and grow Daddy's practice and he wants to lock them in as long term clients. Daryl's meeting Glenn there."

"Glenn will do good. You too," Michonne said, referring to all he and Maggie had taken on since Hershel's death.

Maggie nodded in agreement. "He will. We will." She studied Michonne. "How'd things go with Morgan?"

Michonne shrugged. "It's over. He didn't want it to be though, that's what took so long. I should've been here over an hour ago." She sighed. "I tried to make it work, but he was so emotionally closed off . . . I don't think he was over losing his wife."

"Grief doesn't follow any timeline or rules. Maybe it was too soon for him to start dating again."

"Probably," Michonne sighed. "I don't know." She didn't offer anything more, lost in thought. She wondered about her own lack of dedication at making the relationship with Morgan work. It had been safe being with him; her heart had never been in danger of falling in too deep or of being broken, and she had been comfortable with that. Maybe Morgan had sensed she wasn't all in and wasn't willing to let go of his dead wife to be all in with her either. She sighed, not wanting to acknowledge her own excuse, why she had stood in her own way.

Michonne's small frown tugged at Maggie's heart and she wanted nothing more to brighten her friend's mood. She knew what might work; for the first time since college, both Michonne and Rick were single at the same time. "Rick should be downstairs," Maggie offered. "Last I saw him, he was heading down there with Rosita and Andrea after Beth and Noah's last performance. I think they're trying to liquor him up enough to get on the dance floor."

Michonne laughed. They all knew Rick only stepped on the dance floor with Michonne leading the way or after no less than three shots of something strong. Anticipation at seeing him sparked excitement in the pit of Michonne's stomach.

"I'm glad he came," Michonne commented. "I didn't know if he was going to. You know I haven't seen him since your dad's service. It's like he's been avoiding me."

"I know. He kind of became a recluse after Daddy died and then with the divorce being finalized right after. He didn't come by the farm for weeks. I think he was avoiding all of us. He seems to be back to himself lately though."

Michonne nodded. Maggie had told her when Rick and Lori's divorce was finally all said and done. She thought she would have heard from Rick then, but his reply texts had been monosyllabic and distant. Eventually, she gave him space and stopped reaching out. And then she'd met Morgan.

"Did she come tonight?" Michonne asked, referring to Lori.

"She RSVP'd that she's be here, but I think that was more out of habit than really thinking it through. I haven't seen her so far. Maybe she smartened up and is staying away."

Michonne hummed in agreement. She wondered if Lori would show anyway. Even though they had been separated, Lori had accompanied Rick to Hershel's funeral, but she'd loved the old man as much as the rest of them, so it hadn't been a surprise to have her there.

"You know, he started working here on the weekends," Maggie said. "Ask him about the program he wants to start for our kids. He'll need your expertise."

"Is he going to be adopting any of these kids?"

Maggie frowned and shook her head. "No."

"What type of lawyer do y'all think I am?"

Maggie giggled. "You know we don't care."

A group of three couples exited the double doors to the Philadelphia Room, where the silent auction was being held. They chatted and laughed as they headed toward the stairs. Maggie recognized two of them as the husband and wife team employed as high-level executives with a finance corporation that recently opened a local office downtown.

"I'm going to go mingle," she announced to Michonne. She lowered her voice and nodded toward the passing guests. "And emphasize how much the Foundation appreciates and values their financial support of finding forever homes for parentless and underserved children." When she was a few feet away, Maggie turned back around to face Michonne. "You better get down there and rescue Rick before some bored socialite tries to snatch him up."

Michonne grinned as she watched Maggie pursue and then insert herself into the small group, introducing herself with a welcoming smile. She left Maggie to use her innate talent as the Foundation fundraising ambassador and was confident Maggie would have every one of them stroking substantial checks before the end of the night.

Michonne walked over to the double curved staircase that led down to the ballroom. Closer to the ballroom, she could hear the band performing _Can't Take My Eyes Off You._ Michonne stood at the balcony between the stairs, her gaze moving through the crowd of people below as she rested her hands on the waist high railing. She spotted Rosita, Andrea and Beth next to the ice sculptures buffets, dining on fresh seafood and ripe fruit. Tyrese and Noah stood with them, dapper in their matching tuxedos that Michonne was sure Sasha picked out for them both. Tyrese's fedora completed his look and she wondered where Noah had lost his. Rick wasn't with them. She perused past the section of decorated tables, past the band and the couples on the dance floor to the groups of people standing next to the wall of doors that led to the large balcony outside. She was about to give up when she finally spotted him, leaning against a pillar next to the bottom of the left staircase; she didn't know how she had first missed him. Rick was delectable in a charcoal suit and matching striped tie. His lavender dress shirt was familiar; she recognized it as her Christmas gift to him two years ago. He had grown a beard, which was new. The trimmed brown hair had gray sprinkled throughout and did wonders for his already handsome face. She liked it. His long fingers held a tumbler and he took a sip of the gold liquid. She followed the glass from his lips up to his eyes. Even from here, she could feel the intensity of his blue gaze. He was staring up at her; as if waiting for her to find him. She stopped breathing as they stared at each other.

"All these fine brothers here and you still only have eyes for that white boy," Sasha said in her ear.

Michonne laughed and recalled the first time Sasha had told her something similar. It had been thirteen years ago, during their freshmen year of college when she'd been in denial over her growing feelings for Rick.

"I don't know why y'all just don't get together already. You were just wasting your time with Morgan. And Mike. And what's his face with the four dogs. You know you're a cat person. I hope you went through with it, ending it with Morgan."

Michonne nodded and hugged her friend. "I did," she said. Michonne stood back and held her arms out, taking in Sasha's attire for the evening. "You're looking quite tasty," Michonne exclaimed. Sasha wore a burgundy off-the shoulder skater dress and matching pumps. The front of the dress ended mid-thigh and showed off her athletic legs. Sasha preened and struck a pose, her hands fluttering near her twist-out curls.

"Not much of a gown though," Michonne commented dryly.

"Listen, girl, I'm ready for a full-time man in my life. Can't get that keeping my best assets all covered up. I just hope I don't attract the wrong catch."

Michonne laughed.

"That dress is everything on you," Sasha admired. "I knew it would be."

Michonne twirled slowly, showing off for Sasha. And for _him_ too.

"I'm doing it," Sasha declared.

"Doing what?"

"I got approved for the loan and I'm going to put in an offer to buy Monique's Closet." Sasha worked at the boutique as an executive buyer and upon special request, occasional personal shopper. She'd been there for the last three years, initially hired as the front end manager.

Michonne congratulated Sasha and hugged her again.

"I'll just need you to read over the contract with me. Make sure it's on the up and up. I think Miss Monique just wants to retire and isn't trying to get over, but I want to make sure. You know how sly that old lady can be. I want to change the name too, something a little more chic for where I want to take the boutique. I think she might fight me on that."

"What kind of lawyer do y'all think I am?"

"Does it really matter?" Sasha turned and peeked beyond the railing. Rick was in the same spot, still watching them. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. Rick gave her a slow nod and an easy smile.

"I'll let you get back to it," Sasha said to Michonne, tilting her head in Rick's direction. "You're single, he's single. Maybe something good will come out of it this time. I'm gonna go see if I can get this band to play something we don't need a partner or ballroom lessons to dance to. Hell, I'll take the _Electric Slide_ at this point."

Michonne watched Sasha walk away. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hand down her front of her gown, flattening nonexistent wrinkles. She headed towards Rick, trailing her fingers along the railing as she sauntered down the steps, never breaking eye contact with him. He didn't look away either as she made her way to him and his contemplation was unsettling, like he'd been waiting all night just for her, his small smile like an inside joke between them. Even from here, Michonne felt as if he were flirting with her. She took another deep breath, feeling like she was walking to the edge of something new and exciting.


	2. Chapter 2

As Michonne approached him, Rick stepped away from the column and deftly exchanged his empty glass for a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing server. He held it out towards her.

"Rick," she greeted, accepting the drink. Her fingers brushed his and warmth suffused her body. They stood still, staring at each other.

"Michonne," he replied with a full smile and bright eyes. He moved first, pulling her close for a hug. "You're stunning. You take my breath away."

She breathed deep, enjoying his scent as his compliment and drawl swept over her. Heat radiated from where his hand rested on the exposed skin of her back. He'd always given the best hugs. She inched closer, flattening her breasts against his chest. He tightened his arms around her and she tingled where his beard grazed her face and neck.

"Thank you. You're looking handsome, as usual," she said, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace. He did look good. He felt good too. She touched the knot of his tie. "Nice shirt."

"Yeah, someone with great taste bought it for me."

"Someone with impeccable taste," she joked.

"Someone with an impeccable taste," he returned.

Michonne blushed and her heart beat double before returning to its normal rhythm. She focused on lips and detected a hint of glitter that hadn't been there a moment before. Had he kissed her neck? She resisted reaching out to wipe her thumb over his lips.

"I'm flying solo tonight. Wanna be my date?" Rick asked. "Not unless you already have one?"

"No," she shook her head. "No date tonight."

"Where's Morgan?"

"Not here," she quipped. Maggie had obviously told him she was dating someone.

He raised his brows at her response and she smirked back, not offering anything more.

"So, just solo tonight, or permanently?" she asked.

"Well, hopefully not permanently. But Lori and I are no longer together. I am officially divorced."

"So I heard. No more on-again, off-again? No more one more second chances?"

Rick shook his head. "Nope, over for good. And there's no one else."

Michonne took a sip of her champagne. It was perfection, sweet and crisp, with hints of citrus as it bubbled its way down her throat. She realized they were free to flirt and play, maybe even more. It was usual for it to be this way, their bodies remembering the intense pull between them that they always worked to ignore and disregard. Initially, for the sake of their friendship and then for their respective significant others. Tonight it seemed . . . different. She brought the glass back up to her lips and swallowed a full mouthful. It was her opportunity to tell him about breaking it off with Morgan, but Michonne demurred, even now, still using Morgan as a cover. Just in case. "How's Carl?" she asked instead.

"As well as can be expected, given everything Lori and I have put him through."

Michonne nodded. "He's a good kid. And he's resilient. I saw him about a month ago out at the farm. Tell my buddy that I miss him."

"Yeah, he misses you too."

"Maggie told me you've been volunteering here as a tennis pro."

"Yeah, I just started. They pay me in food," he laughed. "I'm coaching the junior set, six to ten year olds. Just on Saturdays. The recreation director said there's been a boost to membership, you know, having me on staff." He smile was self-deprecating. A few years ago, Rick had retired from the tennis circuit and started working as an associate head coach for the men's team at the private university that was their alma mater's biggest rival.

"Even so, you're still a traitor."

Rick chuckled. None of them ever let him forget it. "It's nice working with younger kids," he said.

"And beating cougars off with your racket?" Michonne teased.

Rick grimaced. She wasn't far from the truth. It made him uncomfortable, all the moms and grandmas that wanted to meet with him to inquire about one-on-ones or discuss their child's progress. He'd only been there three weeks; none of the kids had had time to make any progress yet. And he flat out refused to give private lessons to anyone over thirteen.

Michonne studied his face. "You looking to do something different?"

"Maybe. I don't know." He shrugged. "I've had a lot of time to think lately. I feel like I'm ready for something new, but this is what I know. And I still love the game, coaching and playing. You know what would be fun . . . remember the lessons I used to give you? I'm free to pick those back up. If you're interested," Rick offered.

Michonne remembered. She remembered sitting courtside, watching him in a fitted shirt and tennis shorts, his agile and muscled body racing and lunging over the court to serve or return the ball, rocking from side to side, twirling his racket, a blue sweat band on his head, keeping his curls and sweat off his face. She would be mesmerized watching his collegiate matches; speechless at his deep focus, at how sweat would make his shirt cling to his chest and back, and his shorts. . .

She returned to the present. "Yeah, I'm interested. I'm not sure how much I really learned, but it was a lot of fun."

"I've been talking with Maggie and Glenn about starting up a non-profit, for the kids in the Foundation. Teaching them tennis, cleaning up at parks, going camping, visiting nursing homes, setting up part-time employment at the farm. A little of what Hershel did for me and Daryl, but more. Even doing internships with Glenn at the clinic or with me on campus, workshops to help with college applications and job resumes. Maybe expanding into the community once it's established."

"Oh, what a great idea. That sounds wonderful. You'll still coach?"

Rick nodded, unable to contain a wide smile. He was eager to share his vision with her. "I've written up a business plan, would you go over it with me sometime?"

Before she could give her trademark response, he rushed to say, "I know you're not that type of lawyer."

Michonne giggled, reaching out to touch his arm. She loved that her friends knew her so well and knew that she actually treasured any opportunity to help them. She was also flattered that he wanted to review it with her, when Maggie already worked with several lawyers through the Foundation. "Of course, Rick, I'd love to help. Actually, what you want to do aligns with some of my work. And if you don't want to go through Maggie, I know a few corporate lawyers that could assist you," she told him. She looked down at her hand on his arm before meeting his eyes again. "I've missed you. It's like you've been avoiding me since Hershel died." She purposefully didn't mention his divorce.

Rick shrugged and covered her hand with his, before she could pull away. "Just had to work through some things. Between losing Hershel and then finally ending it with Lori, it was tough." He didn't tell Michonne that being around her complicated that. Mixed him up and turned him inside out. He had it figured out now.

"I'm sure it was."

"So, what do you want to do first? Gaming tables? Something to eat? The silent auction ends at eleven." He glanced at his watch. "We've got a couple of hours."

"Food," she decided, placing her hand over her abdomen. "I'm starving."

* * *

At the hot food stations, they filled their plates with hand-carved beef tenderloin, artichoke and lemon pasta, grilled vegetable antipasto and crab cakes. Rick was especially attentive and it was making her dizzy. He would touch her shoulder and lean in to speak in her ear as he asked what she would like. His fingers caressed the sensitive skin at the small of her back as he guided her among the stations. Twice he complimented her on her gold hoop earrings, touching her lobe as he did so and then running his finger from the back of her ear down to her jaw. When he did the same for her necklace, the back of his hand brushed her upper chest. She could barely breathe, as desire swirled and twisted, swelling into a large knot in her stomach. She nibbled at the food on her plate.

They were at the pub tables arranged for those that wanted to stand and eat. Rick gave her no room, standing so close their sides touched, from arm to thigh. He glanced down at her plate, noticing that she was picking at her food. The Michonne he knew always had a healthy appetite. "You want anything else?"

"Maybe later," she said. She looked at his empty plate. "What about you?"

Rick shook his head. He was still ravenous but he only wanted to feast on Michonne.

They continued walking and approached the dessert table. "Maybe dessert," she said with a smile. "Ooh, they have mousse." She selected a glass shooter filled with whipped chocolate mousse garnished with candied orange peels.

Rick scoffed. "Mousse? What's wrong with pudding?"

"But this is better than pudding. Pretentious pudding, high-society pudding. With nothing to prove because it's so good. Do you want some? It's delicious."

Rick stood transfixed while he stared at her mouth as she took another bite. Her full lips slowly covered the spoon and she closed her eyes as she savored the confection. Her tongue peeked out to sweep across her lower lip and the air in the room left in a rush. He had difficulty taking his next breath.

"You sure?" she asked again, holding out the spoon for him to take from her. Instead he placed his warm hand over her fingers and brought the spoon up to his mouth, putting his lips over where hers had been. They gazed at each other.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed slowly. "It's good," Rick finally said.

Michonne cleared her throat. "Told you."

"It's good, but it's not the best chocolate I've ever had."

Michonne paused, trying to figure out what he was hinting at. She gave him a look.

Rick clasped her elbow and leaned in close to say, "Yeah, maybe you'll let me tell you all about it later." He was debating teasing her further when out of corner of his eye, he spotted the familiar figure of Lori on the other side of the ballroom. He frowned and straightened. He didn't want to deal with any drama from her tonight; he didn't even want to see or speak to her. He just wanted to immerse himself in spending time with Michonne.

The familiar opening trumpet melody of Van Morrison's _Moondance_ filled the ballroom. The vocalist took the microphone and began singing in smooth baritone voice.

"I like this song," Rick said. "Dance with me."

Michonne took another quick bite of her dessert before setting it down and placing her hand in Rick's outstretched one, feeling the familiar callouses he'd earned from working summers on the Greene farm. She squeezed his hand and walked with him onto the dance floor. The tempo was quick and she began to move, resting her arms on his shoulders and smiling at him. He was slightly off-beat but she didn't mind and he caught on to her rhythm quickly. Everything around them faded as they focused on each other. Rick twirled her around and brought her in close, his hips moving against hers. The band played another Morrison record next _, Brown Eyed Girl_. They continued holding onto to each other as they sang the words to each other, smiling and oblivious to everything but each other. Michonne realized the next song was _Wonderful Tonight_. In time with the song, they shifted, so that her right hand was in his left, his free arm curved around her waist and hers over his shoulder. While they slow danced, her fingers snuck into the curls that reached his collar. She played with his hair and bit her lip when she noticed his ears turn pink. It was his most obvious tell. Michonne felt light-hearted and giddy, unable to catch her breath, but in a good way, like the drop tower ride at the state fair. Except there was no safety harness to keep her protected or ride operator to stop her from falling hard and crashing to the bottom.

* * *

After several more songs, they left the dance floor and headed upstairs to the Philadelphia Room. They walked close together, brushing against each other often. Rick stopped to pick up a glass of champagne and waited a moment, so he could take another opportunity to admire Michonne from behind. She'd always had a fantastic ass; in college it would drive him to distraction and had literally been the first thing he'd seen when he met her. He shook his head and pulled at his beard before catching up with her and giving her the drink.

When they arrived, he opened the door and followed her in. He nodded to the attendant by the door but the man was preoccupied with the three teenagers that were camped out near one of the auction items. Michonne began browsing and he walked over to Noah, Beth and one their classmates, Zach.

"We're looking for Noah's hat," Zach explained. Rick narrowed his eyes. It seemed more like they were consuming all the cake and pastry samples provided to encourage bidding on a gift certificate from Sweet Cheeks Bakery.

"You know this is technically a 21 and over event, right?" Rick asked. "You two are only here because you performed." Beth and Noah nodded. Rick looked at Zach. "And you, I don't know why you're here."

"I'm their best friend."

"Still don't know why you're here. But y'all better be on your best. Period."

They all nodded and stood still, not sure if they could pilfer more dessert or if they should run off. Rick turned his head to watch Michonne. She had stopped in front a small statue of a paper-mache multi-colored cat. She ran her finger along the arched back of the sculpture, lingering on its tail before she moved on.

"Y'all go on back downstairs. There's plenty of sweets down there," Rick told the teens, knowing none of them planned to actually bid on anything.

The trio headed to the door, but Rick stopped Noah with a hand on his arm. "Noah. Go ask Michonne if she can find something she thinks would be a good birthday present for me to give Beth. Ask her if these beach photos would go well in Beth's room."

"I thought you already got Beth's gift," Noah complained.

"Noah," Rick warned.

"Alright, alright," Noah shoved the rest of the petite four he was holding into his mouth and walked over to Michonne.

While Noah and Michonne talked and headed away from the cat sculpture, Rick wandered over to it, noting the last bid amount. He quickly put down his name and added $100. He scratched it out wrote $150 instead. He wanted to ensure he won and he would pay twice that much to give her something she admired. He met them at the door.

"See anything you like?" Rick asked Michonne.

"A few things," she said. "I do think those beach prints would be nice gift."

Rick walked over and bid on those as well. "Let's go do some gambling," he said when he met her back at the door.

* * *

They entered the Cypress Room where a Vegas style casino had been set up. The country club's largest room was popular as the guests played blackjack, poker, craps and roulette. There was no real gambling actually taking place; the purchase of each gala ticket included a voucher for 500 chips. When a guest was out, they had the option of making a donation for additional chips and once they finished gambling, they could redeem their chips for raffle tickets for a chance to win several featured prizes.

After Rick turned in their vouchers, he steered her toward the craps table and stood behind her when they found an empty spot.

"Do you remember how to play?" Rick asked, reaching around her to place their chips on the rack in front of her. It was like he was everywhere, completely surrounding her. Michonne swallowed hard before shaking her head. "Teach me again."

Rick quickly reviewed the basic rules and when the stickman pushed dice her way, Rick encouraged her to roll. Michonne selected two and the rest were pulled away.

"What do I want to roll again?"

"To win on your first roll, a seven or eleven."

"What about placing bets?"

"I'll take care of that part," he assured her, already setting down several chips.

"Are you betting against me?" Michonne asked him.

"I would never."

"You're confident I'm a sure thing?"

"I would never presume. But I'm hoping. That's two hopes and a prayer."

Michonne smiled at their old joke and returned to the game. "C'mon seven or eleven," she exclaimed as she shook the dice in her hand. She held them up to Rick's lips for a good luck blow. Rick puckered his lips, brushing them against her fingers as he blew. She felt a sizzle as he took a small lick with his tongue. Michonne shivered and promptly forgot everything around them.

"Throw the dice," Rick whispered in her ear.

She flung the dice away as if they were on fire. They flew through the air, bouncing on the table before hitting the opposite wall and swiveling to a stop on two and four. Six. Those around the table clapped and most made more bets.

"I didn't lose?" she asked.

"No, you just keep rolling until you get six again. But don't roll a seven or eleven."

The stickman returned the dice to her. "Okay." She grabbed them and held them up for another blow from Rick. He kept his tongue to himself this time. She rolled an eight and then a ten. She rolled a seven-out before a six. They stayed at the table while others rolled and Rick placed bets, losing and winning chips. He answered her questions about how to bet.

When it was her turn to roll again, she scooped up the dice. "Let's go big," she said, looking down at the chips they had accumulated.

He smiled in agreement and put all their chips on the pass line. He returned to stand behind her, crowding her, the heat of his body warming her back. She gasped when he lowered his head and kissed her bare shoulder. "Good luck," he murmured against her skin.

After another blow, she threw the dice and everyone watched as they landed on a six and a five. Eleven. Michonne threw both arms in the air and whooped in excitement. Everyone around the table cheered and shouted. She and Rick collected their chips. "That's it, I'm done." she said. "Let's go get some raffle tickets."

After exchanging their chips, they walked over to the table at the far side of the room. Rick gave all the tickets to Michonne and she wrote her contact information on the back of each one. They scanned the prizes. A deluxe spa day, a hot air balloon ride, a one-year membership to a nearby gym and box office seats for one regular season hockey game. Michonne stopped in front of the glass jar that offered a four day getaway at a bed and breakfast in Charleston, South Carolina.

"That seems romantic," Rick said, his voice neutral.

"Yeah," she said and dropped most of her tickets into the jar for the spa day.

Off to their left, Sasha and Tyrese walked toward them. When Rick turned around to greet them, she put her last ticket into the jar for the getaway before joining them.

"Hey Michonne," Tyrese said. He ducked his head then looked back up at her. "I was afraid you weren't going to show."

"I wouldn't miss this for anything," Michonne said. She gave Tyrese a quick hug hello.

"Me either," Sasha chimed in and then frowned at her brother. She'd told him years ago that his crush on Michonne was pointless; that he was wasting energy and time pining after her. The two had met during Michonne and Sasha's sophomore year, when Michonne had went home with Sasha during fall break. Tyrone had fallen hard and fast. Michonne hadn't reciprocated his feelings but she knew how he felt and took care to never encourage him. He'd never actually asked her out and she'd never officially turned him down and so his infatuation had remained.

After chatting, they parted, Sasha and Tyrese remaining in the casino while Rick and Michonne returned downstairs.

"What next?" Rick asked, once they were back in the ballroom. He wasn't looking at Michonne, instead staring across the room.

Michonne followed his gaze and spotted Lori. "Are you going to ignore her all night or are we going to just go over, say hello and then move on?"

Rick studied Michonne before he nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, glancing back over in Lori's direction. "Let's go say hello." He placed his hand at the small of her back as they walked over.

* * *

Lori quickly finished her drink as she noticed Rick and Michonne heading her way. She stood up from where she'd spent the last hour trying not to be obvious about watching them. She wore a red strapless high-low ball gown and her hair curled and loose. It had been Rick's favorite way for her to wear her hair but she'd already realized she wouldn't be getting any compliments from him tonight. From the moment she walked in, she had regretted coming, but her companion was having a blast. After resigning herself to staying, she'd hoped to talk to Rick, but now wondered what she could even say to him to get him to spend time with her. She watched Rick escort Michonne and wasn't surprised to see them together. Even in college, she'd felt that Michonne was a threat. She was confident neither of them had ever done anything behind her back, even when she and Rick were just dating, but their friendship had always been a problem for her. She'd overcompensated for their closeness by clinging tighter to Rick, suffocating him and then pushing him away in some twisted way of punishing him for not having the having that intimate connection with her. At least that was what she had worked out with the help of her therapist. But ultimately, she was the one who had been unfaithful and that had been the last straw for Rick.

It was an awkward gathering of three. Michonne and Lori said hello to each other, cheerful smiles on their faces. They had never been friends but could have been if it hadn't been for the man standing with them. They were cordial and didn't dislike each other, but Lori had sometimes wished that Michonne had overstepped so she would have had a reason to hate her; a reason to demand that Rick cut all ties with her.

"Lori," Rick greeted her. There was an awkward pause while Rick wondered if he should hug her hello. Michonne answered the question for him when she took a small step away. He wrapped his arms around Lori reluctantly and as soon as possible, he stepped back and reached out for Michonne's hand. She squeezed his and he looked at her.

"I'm going to catch up with Andrea and Rosita." She motioned to where they stood several yards behind Lori, near the balcony doors.

"You don't have to go."

"No it's okay. Come get me when you're done."

He nodded. "I'll be right there."

Michonne smiled. "Bye Lori, I'll see you around."

Lori waved at Michonne and turned her full attention to Rick, watching him as he watched Michonne walk away. It was obvious Michonne had won and she didn't like losing. Lori tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "Rick."

He dragged his eyes away from Michonne's backside and looked at his ex-wife. He waited for her to speak.

"It's so good to see you. I've been worried about you. Carl said—"

"Where is Carl?"

"He's with my parents.

Rick nodded. He looked around the ballroom. "Did he come with you?" This time he wasn't referring to their son.

"No, I brought my co-worker, Donna. She's out there dancing. Shane and I aren't together anymore."

"Sorry it worked out like that for you."

"I'm sure you are. Are you and Michonne. . . ?"

"None of your business," he answered curtly.

Lori sighed. "It's just that we, that we just, everything is still so recent. Rick, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll say it however many times you need me to. Just, please . . . I just . . ."

"Not now, Lori. This isn't the time or place."

"Dance with me?"

Rick frowned and gave a sharp shake of his head.

Lori persisted. "Can I call you later, maybe tomorrow? You can come over and have lunch with me and Carl. We can talk."

Rick squinted and pursed his lips. He looked past her to Michonne laughing with Rosita and Andrea. He knew what Lori wanted and he wasn't interested. "I don't think so. We've already said everything. I'll see you when I come to get Carl next weekend."

* * *

Michonne laughed until she had tears in her eyes at Andrea's retelling of her disaster of a date from the night before.

"So, there's not going to be a second date, then?" she asked.

"I didn't say that. He was just nervous and self-conscious. He's only been on few dates since his wife died, so it was awkward, but he meant well. And he's really handsome. He's the mayor of some BFE town north of here. So, there's potential."

"I think he's nice. And his daughter is sweet," Rosita added. She had met Penny and her father a year ago when he'd started bringing her into the ENT office where Rosita worked as a physician assistant. She had been the one to set up Andrea and Philip on their date.

"So you and Rick?" Andrea asked. "Finally?"

"We'll see."

"If you ask me, it looks like he's pretty much made up his mind," Andrea said and under her breath repeated, "Finally."

Michonne rolled her eyes. She noticed they both grew silent and shared a look. Before she could ask about it, she felt Rick's arm wrap around her waist as he joined them.

"Hey Rick," Rosita said. "We saw you getting down on the dance floor earlier."

"Nah, that was all Michonne. She makes me look good."

Andrea gave Michonne a pointed look. Michonne shook her head and knew Andrea would be calling her first thing in the morning to get details. They all probably would. She figured she should just send a group text making plans for brunch so she'd only have to tell it once. They talked until Michonne spotted Maggie outside and she and Rick joined her. Pub tables and stainless steel patio heaters were arranged throughout the balcony. Soft yellow light shone from LED lanterns. The balcony overlooked the ninth hole and was mostly deserted, outside in the cool, not quite spring, air. Rain had been forecast throughout the day, but it still held off, the cloud cover hiding the moon and stars.

"You okay?" Michonne asked Maggie.

"I am. Just a little nauseous. I mean, who gets morning sickness at night?" She rolled her eyes. "I thought I'd be past all this after the first trimester. "

"Can I get you anything?" Rick asked.

Maggie shook her head. "One of the servers is getting me a can of ginger ale and some crackers. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Rick asked. "You want me to call Glenn?"

"No, no, don't bug him. Let him concentrate on what he's doing."

Rick and Michonne stayed on the balcony, talking with Maggie. Eventually, the rest of their friends found their way to them. Beth, Noah and Zach slipped out on the balcony with the adults and shared a look when they weren't rushed back inside. They stood off to the side, drinking soda and talking about school, trying to figure out a way to sneak a glass or two of champagne and lamenting how all the servers knew they weren't old enough to legally drink.

Through the open balcony doors, they heard the band announce their twenty minute break. A CD player was turned on and the speakers emitted crackly sounds until _It's a Wonderful World_ began playing.

"Ugh," Sasha complained. "I really thought the singer had my back on changing this up a bit. Tell me why we have a different band this year?" She directed the question to Andrea. "I had Timeless Wonder perfectly trained on the playlist."

"They broke up," Andrea answered. "The lead singer was still willing to do it but for the same price and we'd still have to hire a band. Loose Ends was a little bit cheaper as they're trying to get their name out there, but just as good."

"They auditioned really well," Maggie added.

The next song was another ballad and the group continued their conversation, a dedicated server finding them on the balcony to refresh their drinks. A toast was made to Hershel and they all surrounded Maggie, Beth and Rick with love and condolences. Sasha opened her mouth to make a comment about Maggie lifting up a glass of soda when the next song began.

 _All the shawtys in the club. . ._

Sasha froze as the song continued.

 _Back it up, drop it down. . ._

Sasha grinned and set her drink on one of the tables. "They came through. That's our cue, let's go," she said, grabbing Michonne's hand as she hurried back inside.

The ten of them filed onto the recently cleared dance floor, as if they were going to perform for judges on a televised competition. Rick stood next to Michonne, with Maggie on his left and Andrea and Rosita on her right. Tyrese and the teenagers were behind them and Sasha stood in front.

Rick looked at their group and then told Michonne, "I'm gonna stand with the guys." He made a space for himself between Zach and Beth so he was directly behind Michonne.

"Follow my lead," Sasha turned to face them, dancing in place.

"She's going to make it too complicated," Maggie laughed, referring to how Sasha always added her own extra moves.

"You already know the steps, Maggie." Sasha smiled, snapping her fingers and winding her hips. She turned back around.

"See," Maggie said to Michonne, waving her hand up and down at Sasha. "And you're no better," she accused Michonne, laughing.

Michonne smiled as she gyrated her body.

"To the front," Sasha said when the right beat hit and they all jumped forward. They wobbled for four beats and then all jumped back, moving again. "To the right," Sasha said, twirling her arms in the air.

They danced in sync, keeping to the beat. As they were stepping back on the eight-count, Michonne looked over her shoulder at Rick. He was eying her butt. He looked up and caught her watching him.

"Just watching you to make sure I don't mess up," he called out at her. She threw her head back and laughed and made to add extra swivels of her hips. She felt happy and hopeful and he looked the same. All of this was good.

After the first full pass, when they were all facing the direction they started in, more guests joined them on the floor, some knowing the moves and others on the periphery, watching the group to learn.

"I think Sasha has an admirer," Michonne said to Maggie, looking over at the redhead who was watching Sasha. He was a well-built, wearing a white dress shirt open at the collar, black pants and suspenders. He stood on the side of the dance floor, holding his drink, never taking his eyes off their friend.

"Don't talk to me," Maggie objected. "I'm concentrating." But she glanced over.

The Electric played next and then the Cha-Cha Slide. By that time the dance floor was full. The band returned and there was a period of silence as they took time to tune their instruments. The chatter from the guests filled the ballroom.

Maggie nudged Michonne, directing Michonne her to look at the saxophone player. It was the redheaded man she'd seen earlier. "That's Abe. Loose Ends is his band. He's in the army. This is his side gig."

"Well, well," Michonne said. She walked over to where Sasha was getting another drink. Michonne got one for herself as well.

"Meet anyone with potential?" she asked Sasha.

Sasha shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. She refused to be disappointed.

"I think that one is interested," Michonne said. "He keeps checking you out."

"Who?"

Michonne discreetly pointed to the saxophone player. Sasha turned and stared at the brawny, giant of man with close-cropped, wavy red hair. His cheeks were clean-shaven, but his mustache. It was bushy and the same red as his full head of hair, and it travelled past his lips to his chin. He waited to play, the mouthpiece of his sax several inches from his lips as he tapped his fingers along the keys on the instrument's body. Sasha opened her mouth to ask Michonne if she was joking when he looked over at Sasha and noticed her watching him. He winked at her and smiled broadly. He didn't look away as he started playing.

"Oh my God. You aren't kidding." Sasha voice was hushed as she took a closer look at him, starting at his head. She felt a spark of excitement at the thought of being wrapped in his embrace. "Usually I'd say he's not my type, but I'm living life open to all possibilities and new beginnings. Besides, do you see those muscles? He's about the Hulk Smash it out of that shirt."

Michonne laughed and patted Sasha's shoulder. "His name is Abe. Have fun with that."

* * *

They continued dancing, in a large circle, the final set intended to bring everyone onto the dance floor. Every time Michonne turned around, Rick was there, and they often danced with each other. Glen arrived at a quarter to midnight, seeking out his wife and pulling her off to the side as they slowed danced to _Return of the Mack._

"I need fresh air," Michonne said to Rick, fanning herself with her hands. She was grateful her locs were up off her neck. She was sure some of the heat she was feeling was due to being in close proximity to Rick for such an extended period of time. Or maybe she was running a low grade fever.

Rick accompanied her back outside. They stood next to each other, Michonne leaning back against the railing. Her eyes traveled over his face, taking in his expectant expression and relaxed body language. She read his mood accurately because it mirrored her own. They listened to the Foundation chair give her closing speech and announce the ball was in its final half hour.

"This has been so much fun. I'm not ready for the night to end," she said, watching him.

"Me either," he sighed, looking down at his drink.

"And I'm hungry. Movie and leftover Chinese at my place?"

Rick grinned before taking another sip. "How left over?"

She laughed. "Just from last night. I won't try to give you food poisoning. Again. Jeez, that was so long ago. Or we can get one of the take-out boxes Maggie had the caterers set aside for us."

Rick held her gaze while he finished his drink and set it down. He ran his hand down her arm and intertwined their fingers.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think about it and please forgive any errors.

I can't thank y'all enough for all the reads, reviews and follows. Like, you guys. I'm tickled by all the love. With all the interest, I'm thinking I'll probably need to add an additional chapter (the next one was supposed to be the last).

With everything I have going on; it's going to be a week before the next chapter will be up.

Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey readers, hey! So, Michonne and Rick have left the gala to go to her place. I hope y'all are ready :)

* * *

The twenty-seven minute ride to Michonne's townhome was thick with quiet expectation, the cab driver falling silent after unsuccessfully trying to engage them in conversation. During the ride, the clouds that had covered the sky in gray throughout the day released, and rain fell in slow, heavy plops. The distinctive scent of fresh rain mingling with the asphalt floated through the partially open windows of the car, surrounding the occupants. In the back seat, Rick moved closer until his thigh touched Michonne's. He shifted his head so his nose touched her cheek and he breathed her in. She smelled divine, like one of her body butters lotion and he liked it. And he liked how soft her moisturizing routine always made her skin. He remembered in college being fascinated at her collection of lotions, hair products and body sprays; that one woman would have so much. His desire for her made speech difficult but he didn't want to talk; he just wanted to feel. Rick was determined and resolute as he pushed away nudges of guilt over his decision to sleep with this woman who was involved with another man. He felt reckless and entitled and he didn't care. He could sense that something wasn't right with Michonne's relationship and with her full consent and involvement; he was going to take advantage of that.

Their fingers wove together, the desire that had been shimmering just beneath the surface flared between them, the flame casting them both within its escalating heat. Every time Rick exhaled, his breath tickled the shell of her ear and sent sparks firing down her neck and arm. She shivered when his lips brushed the sweet spot behind her ear. Michonne was tipsy and relaxed, yet aware and in full control as she opened her eyes to stare down at their joined hands. She felt carefree and surreal, on auto pilot, open to whatever the night would bring. She felt reckless and spontaneous, receptive to Rick's attention and touch.

The driver parked his sedan outside her end-unit townhouse. The three story brick veneer units faced the street with double garages at the back; a newly constructed community on the periphery of the historic downtown district. Rick and Michonne separated reluctantly and moved through the thick haze of their longing to exit the car. Michonne hurried to her front door, trying to dodge the rain and Rick followed close behind, holding his suit jacket over both of them while she worked to open the front door. She realized with dismay that the deadbolt to the front door was locked and she only had the key for the bottom lockset. She turned around to face Rick. He was so close, the front of her body bumped his. Her nipples contracted and she took a swift breath. She stepped back and he followed, continuing to crowd her while keeping them both under his makeshift umbrella.

"What?" he asked.

"I never use the front door; I don't have the key for the top lock," Michonne admitted.

"Are you locked out of your home?" he laughed.

She giggled. "No, no, we can go through the garage. Shit, I don't know if I remember the code."

Abruptly, with a crack of thunder, the sky opened and rain poured down. Rick gave up trying to keep them dry and ran behind her as they hurried around to the overhead door. Michonne was successful with the code on her second attempt, but by then, they were already drenched. Inside, they removed sodden shoes on the tile floor of the mudroom.

She handed him a hanger and folded towels off the shelf. "You can hang your suit up here. I still have an old pair of your shorts and a t-shirt upstairs. I'll bring them down."

Rick nodded, his curls plastered to his head and his blue eyes dark in the dim light of the small room. As she turned away, he grabbed her hand to stop her and waited until she looked at him.

"You've always been so beautiful to me but I could never say it to you out loud when it mattered. I want . . .," He took a deep breath. "I want to be with you."

Michonne froze, struck mute. He was exposing the yearning in her heart that had manifested shortly after their initial meeting thirteen years ago. It had been a random Tuesday afternoon during her freshman year of college when Rick had stopped by to visit his foster sister (and her roommate), Maggie, and take them all out to lunch. He'd been a sophomore, but even then, still a year older than the rest of his class as he delayed his admission a year. Feelings she'd mostly kept hidden, tucked away, except for a few times. Speaking the words aloud now, he put it front and center, so they were going into this eyes wide open.

She hesitated, wondering what would happen on the other side.

"Just for tonight," he added. "Tomorrow we'll go back to how we've always been. Good friends."

She wanted more; the right to be possessive, to call him hers. She fell back into her timid habit of not speaking her wants out loud to him. She nodded, deciding that she would make this night be enough. She wanted him too much to say no.

"Tomorrow back to being friends?" he asked.

Michonne nodded again.

"Say it Michonne," he demanded, stepping closer to her. He dropped his head to murmur in her ear. "Say you want tonight."

"Yes, Rick, I want you. Let's be lovers. Tonight," she whispered.

Her swift acquiescence startled him for a moment, uncharacteristic with her loyal nature; it had never been her, to step out on someone she was involved with. He brushed the thought as he'd already made himself a promise of what he was going after tonight.

Rick cupped her face with both of his hands. He pressed his lips to hers, and gave her several slow pecks before opening her lips with his and kissing her deeply. Michonne sucked on his tongue and then gave him hers. Their smacks and moans mingled into one long pleasure soaked hum throughout the room. With his lips still locked to hers, Rick lifted Michonne up on to the washing machine and used his hips to make room for himself between her legs. He put one hand at the back of her neck while the other squeezed her waist. She rubbed at his beard and grabbed his curls. They were full on making out, only breaking apart to suck in gulps of air before going back at it.

Rick licked his way down her neck to the succulent skin at the top of her breasts. He dipped his tongue into her cleavage, enjoying the taste of the rain on her skin. Her nipples strained against her wet dress and she gasped when he suckled them in turn, through the fabric. Michonne gripped his hair tighter and shifted her legs, aching, wanting him closer. His hands were now on her legs and he took her mouth again, breathing hard, as he pushed her sodden dress up to her thighs. He placed her right leg over his shoulder, causing Michonne to rock back and slap her hands down on the washer for support. The hollow sound echoed between them. She panted, waiting, not sure what was coming next, but ready.

There wasn't enough light to see everything, but Rick felt his way and they both began breathing heavier as he reached her panties and pulled them aside. He eased two fingers inside her wet heat. He huffed at how responsive she was, how hot. He took her mouth again as he reached deep and hooked his fingers to catch her in the good spot. Michonne gave a long satisfied moan into his mouth. The pad of his thumb rubbed her clit while he stroked her deep.

Michonne was awash in euphoria, her body already primed from his constant attention and careful seduction all night. Now, in the shadowed mud room, with him standing between her spread legs, listening to his quiet words and heated groans as he pleasured her, she rocketed straight to the edge.

Rick kept at it, working her below, while sucking and licking at her lips and neck, overwhelming her with sensation. He listened to her body, reading her responses on how much to give and how fast to go. He watched her with hooded lids, eating up her reaction to his touch. When her limbs trembled and her breath became choppy and her cries became one uninterrupted sound, he sucked harder on her neck and massaged tighter circles on her clit.

With a squeal, Michonne came, her body heaving, the pleasure racing through her body.

Rick watched her closely and waited as she caught her breath, his own breathing matching hers. He was immensely aroused, but he held still, letting her body use his fingers for its continued gratification. When she finally met his eyes, he carefully withdrew his hand and sucked his fingers clean.

They stared at each other until Michonne rolled her shoulders and looked away when it became too much. She bit her bottom lip. "That was, uh, really good."

"The pleasure was all mine." His drawl tumbled over her and her pussy clenched again.

"I just need a minute. Are you cold? I'm a little cold. I'm sorry, I can't stop shivering."

"It's a little cold."

"Okay. Whew, okay." She continued to sit there, in her wet dress and even wetter panties, shivering slightly from the chill and the lingering remnants of her orgasm. They both knew she was in for it tonight. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, deciding she wasn't going down by herself.

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll take those clothes now," he said with a smug grin.

* * *

In her bedroom, Michonne peeled her gown off her still trembling limbs. After drying off, she pulled out a matching emerald-colored bra set. She bit the tags off and quickly dressed. After a 360 check in the mirror, she slipped on a thigh length silk robe.

Downstairs, she found Rick on the sofa in the den, elbows on his knees as he watched a tennis match. The TV was muted but he was still engrossed. She listened to the rain pelted the windows as she admired him. He was wearing the clothes she'd given him before going to her room to change. They were from years ago, and the shirt struggled to hold in the muscles in his arms and chest he'd grown since then. He looked up when she walked in and she handed him one of the two bottles of water she was holding.

"I can get you something stronger, if you want," she offered.

"No, this is good," he said.

They opened their waters and took sips, glancing at each other, unexpectedly shy. As if he just hadn't been knuckles deep in her several minutes ago. They fell back into their safe zone of friendship complemented with heated glances. Rick scratched his beard, contemplating the best way to transition them to the point where they were both sweaty and moaning. He looked over at her when she nudged him with her foot.

"So the beard's new," she stated. She hadn't told him, but she found it downright sexy.

"What, you don't like it?" He grabbed her foot, placing it in his lap. He massaged it slowly, rubbing his thumb firmly from the heel up to the pad and she closed her eyes with a contented sigh. It bordered on ticklish and she struggled not to giggle and take back her foot. After several quiet moments, she gave him her other foot and he obliged her with another foot rub. Her free foot rested in his lap and she slowly moved it back and forth over his groin. It wasn't long before she felt his growing bulge.

"I like it."

For a moment Rick couldn't figure out what she was talking about.

"Your beard. It looks really good."

"It does, huh?"

"You know you're sexy right?"

He blushed and shrugged. "I like that you think I'm sexy." Rick's blue eyes were bright, focused on her. "I find you enchanting," he told her. "I always have."

It was her turn to blush. His words left Michonne speechless and she closed her eyes, chewing on what he said. His massage continued up her calf and behind her knee. When she felt his fingers trailing along the back of her thigh, she opened her eyes to find him much closer, his eyes hot with longing.

She'd always wanted him. For him, it was the same. In college, she'd been too cautious and insecure to go after what she'd wanted. He'd been too intimated and unsure, often tongue-tied in the beginning to talk to her about anything other than tennis and classes. Even through awkward silences and stilted conversations, they remained drawn to each other, seeking the other out until they became comfortable enough to share everything, except how they truly felt about each other. It wasn't long before they were close friends. Neither had been brave or foolish enough to chance their friendship for a relationship that might not be what the other wanted. There'd been a few kisses, after some campus party or another. And then one night there had been more, but even now, she didn't like to talk about it. At first, she hadn't been embarrassed by what they had done, but by how they'd both been so shy afterward, uneasy and uncomfortable with each other, both waiting for the other to make the next move. It had taken weeks to regain their footing, but by then it was too late, other interested parties had stepped up and stepped in. He had started dating Lori and when Mike asked her out again, she had finally said yes.

"C'mere," Rick said, bringing his lips to hers.

She sipped at his lips, taking her time. He'd always had the best lips. So full and always ready to smile for her. She grinned now, the joy of this moment bubbling up inside her.

Rick pulled back and gave her one of those ever-ready smiles.

"What?" he asked, not understanding but enamored with her happiness.

She didn't answer; gripping his curls and pulling him closer again. She couldn't get enough. She wanted more, all of him. As if having him there, right now, wasn't enough.

Their kisses grew deeper, longer, hotter. Rick pulled back and studied Michonne. He knew how he felt about her and knew exactly how he wanted to be with her.

"There hasn't been anyone since Lori. And we'd gone without doing anything for a while before I moved out. But I got tested, I'm safe," he stated.

Michonne nodded. "I trust you," she assured him. "I've been tested too. Besides Mike, I've always used condoms, except for . . . you know."

He remembered but let it go. "I trust you too."

Rick leaned back against the arm of the sofa and pulled her down on top of him. They were a tangle of arms and desire while he aimed to kiss and nibble on any part of her he could reach and she tried to settle and get comfortable. Michonne straddled his hips and pitched her groin against his. He pushed back. She could feel the heat of his semi-erect cock through her barely-there underwear. Resting her chest against his, she lowered her head and pressed a light kiss to each side of his mouth. She pushed her hands through his hair and she brushed her lips against his, enjoying the softness of his full lips, waiting for him to open for her. He did and they made out for long, exquisite minutes, the hushed sounds of lips meeting interspersed with smacks and moans.

"You're so vocal," she told him. "I like the sounds you make. They tell me you're enjoying this more than if you actually said the words."

He grinned and pulled her back down for another session. She broke free and gasped for air. He kissed along her neck and shoulder, pushing her robe down her shoulders.

"Maybe we should see how vocal you are too," he suggested.

She grinned and sat up, the robe falling down to her elbows. Her bra was bright green, contrasting strikingly against her brown skin. He was mesmerized. Rick took a hold of each breast, watching the supple flesh overflow his greedy hands. He curved a finger around the cup of her bra to release a nipple, taking it in his mouth and suckling gently. When she pushed against him, he sucked harder, opening his mouth to take more of her breast into his mouth. She moaned her encouragement, her hands massaging his length through his shorts. He was fully hard now, straining against his shorts. She slipped her hand inside. Rick hummed at her touch.

Rick caressed her back and followed it down to her ass. He froze when he realized he was touching bare cheeks. He pulled back, thinking for a moment she was fully naked, but then he realized it was much better than that.

"A thong?" Rick raised his brows. "Get up," he choked out, anticipating the sight of her round ass cleaved by a thin scrap of fabric. It would be the reality of dozens of fantasies he'd imagined over the years

"Take this off," he said when she was standing, gesturing to the robe. Michonne turned away from him and straightened her arms, letting gravity leisurely slide it down, putting her beautiful body on display. The view was everything and more, the strong curve of her back flowing to a perfectly framed rear end, presented with a tiny green bow at the top of her cheeks. He fell to his knees and kissed the bow reverently before hooking a finger to remove the rest of the string from its hiding place. He placed kisses down both sides of her sensational ass and tugged the thong down her legs.

She reached around and unfastened her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she turned to face him.

"You . . . are . . . gorgeous," he said, his voice reverent. He maneuvered her until she was seated back on the couch, facing him. He knelt in front of her and stroked her skin, from her neck, over her shoulders and when he reached her hands, he linked their fingers and kissed her. He pulled back and lifted her breasts, pushing his face in her cleavage, breathing her in. He licked and sucked on the plumpness of her tits, making his way to her nipples. They were extended, waiting for his attention and he didn't let them down. With eyes closed, he suckled loudly, rolling his tongue over and around them, taking his time with each one. Michonne's body was heaving and his hands on her rib cage kept her from falling back on the couch. When Rick had his fill, he kissed his way to her navel and then sat back on his haunches.

Michonne opened her legs wider and presented herself to him. Her sleek pinkness framed by plump brown beckoned him, dark tight curls highlighting her gem. Her pussy dared and encouraged him to make this night one that would follow both of them for all their days and he was up for the challenge. He inched closer to inspect, to burn every detail of her body into his memory.

"This is the prettiest thing I've ever seen," he professed. He was now so close, his lips brushed against her labia as he spoke. He pushed his nose in and breathed deep. Her scent stimulated him even more; it was earthy and aromatic, like rich soil ready for seedlings. He began paying homage by kissing her outer lips. He traced them with his tongue and hummed when he got his first taste of her honey. He grabbed her thighs and dug in. Using broad strokes of his tongue from bottom to top, he gorged on her. He ate her like pudding, like chocolate mousse, sucking and slurping on her folds. Her bud swelled and peeked out at him, eager for its own special attention. He used his thumbs to press on either side of her clit as he latched onto it. With a moan that rivaled hers, he continued to eat her out until with a shudder and a scream, she came all over his face. He kept at her, greedy for more, greedy for her, for another of her orgasms until she was pushing him away. He released her and scooted back, his chest heaving as he watched her fall on her side, her body shaking.

"You're vocal too," he said finally, pulling her down to the floor. He turned her around so her upper body was leaning on the sofa. He stroked his hands down her back, admiring the strength of her muscles. He pushed his shorts down his hips and stood up long enough to kick them off before kneeling behind her again.

"You ready?" he rasped, stroking his cock while he waited for her to respond.

Michonne nodded.

Grabbing the base of his cock, Rick aimed the head at the puffy lips of her pussy. They both moaned as he eased inside, her body yielding to his. She shifted her hips and arched her back a bit more, adjusting to his size. He filled her to the edge, nerve endings firing off wildly. She trembled in response.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling on the word like taffy. Her sex clasped him, wet and tight. He vibrated with the pleasure. He withdrew and she whimpered, her body reluctant to let him go. He pushed back in with a hiss. After several more thrusts, he grabbed the globes of her ass and separated them, enthralled by the sight of his cock moving in and out of her. He glanced up and caught her eye, she had turned her head around to watch him.

"Yes, like that," she encouraged, pushing back on him.

They found their rhythm. She rolled and undulated her body. He rode her waves, steady at the helm, his hand on her hip directing the angle of his approach and retreat. He took his time, the pleasure falling over him in luscious swells and he reveled in it all. He savored this; being with her. The rain outside accompanied the wet sounds of their lovemaking.

"Harder," Michonne demanded breathlessly and Rick complied, ready to let loose. He raised his left leg up on his foot and slung his hips forward, reaching deeper inside her; moaning at the increased sensation. Rick pumped his hips faster. He was intoxicated on her and overheated with lust, his upper chest and back infused with red and his skin stretched too tight as his body begged for release. The ecstasy was overwhelming; ready to burst.

Michonne reached back with one hand and grabbed his wrist, needing to ground herself before he cut her loose and she blew away. His thrusts pushed her higher and higher, until she was right there. She cried out as she climaxed, her body quivering in sweet relief. She dug her nails into his skin as the it blazed through her.

Rick grunted in delightful agony as he rode her through her orgasm, desperate for his own. He pawed at her body as her spams pulled and sucked at him. He wanted to tell her, everything he'd been holding back over the years, his regrets, how he felt about her. But she was rocking his world, it had never been this good and then he's falling over the cliff. With one last deep thrust and without any thought, he held back his words and gave her everything else. Rick grasped her hips with both hands and held on for his life, bellowing as he came, emptying himself inside of her.

Time stopped. Michonne floated as her body purred as she slowly came down. She became aware of Rick was pressing his lips across her back and shoulders.

"I didn't pull out. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped. "It was so good, too good, I couldn't stop." He was rambling. Trying to recover and already hungry for more. He was still deep inside her, thrusting slowly, rubbing out every last drop.

"It's okay, it's okay." She liked that he lost control. She'd worry about the consequences in the morning.

They collapsed on the shaggy area rug, staring at each other as they caught their breath. As the sweat dried and their skin cooled, Rick grabbed the quilt off the loveseat to cover them. At some point, her hair had come undone and he twisted one of her locs around his finger.

"That was amazing. You are amazing," he told her, giving her soft kisses.

He unmuted the television and they watched more of the tennis game with him cuddled up behind her. She fell asleep, warm and content in his embrace. He watched her while she slept, tracing her face with his finger, the game forgotten. An hour later, he woke her to go to bed; and after making sure the doors were locked, he grabbed her hand and led her upstairs.

They brushed their teeth at the dual sink vanity in her bathroom, Rick using one of the spares she bought for guests. Their eyes met in the mirror and they shared smiles. The normalcy of it all brought a pang to her heart. She kept all the words she wanted to say close to her heart but let him spoon her as they slumbered.

Sometime before dawn she reached out, needy for him, grasping his length, which was hard and throbbing against her thigh. Neither was fully awake when he climbed on top of her and eased inside. He made love to her slowly, grinding deep, pushing her into the mattress. Their orgasms unfolded leisurely, both of them caught in a dreamlike state of desire and wonder. He went over first, whispering into her neck. She pulled him closer as her orgasm and his words swept her away.

* * *

It was morning now and they'd had an agreement. Just for the night. History repeated itself and like before, the weight of what wasn't said grew between them until it they were getting ready in awkward silence.

"This is ridiculous," Michonne finally declared, as they tip-toed around each other. She walked over to him and cupped his face. "It is what it is. We're still friends, right?"

He stared down at her, wondering why she couldn't see that his desire and adoration was a plea for more. "Always," he answered softly. "Lovers just for the night. It's all you wanted, right?"

She nodded and looked past him to the clock on the wall. It was not even eight o'clock and she was about to lie on this good Sunday morning. She cleared her throat. "Yes. You?"

"Me too." He broke her gaze when he said it, stepping away to pull on his shirt.

"I told Maggie I'd go over to the farm today to help her pack up more of Hershel's things. She said you might be coming out too?"

"Yeah."

"So, I'll see you there?"

Rick nodded and checked his phone again. "My ride's outside. Do you want come with me, get your car too?"

Michonne shook her head, knowing the car ride would be uncomfortable and tense. She wondered if he would say more before he left, speak what his eyes said to her. She needed to hear him say the words, worried she was mistaken, like before. She thought about she could continue any relationship with him that didn't involve them being a couple. She wouldn't be able to hang around as he met and dated someone else, fell in love, got married. She didn't want to just be friends.

Rick left after a lingering hug and as soon as the door closed behind him, Michonne picked up her cell phone and called Maggie.

"Well, somebody was a big winner last night," Maggie teased as soon as she answered.

"What?"

"At the ball. You won the cat from Grady's Gallery and the trip to the Charleston."

Michonne was surprised. "I didn't bid on the cat," she offered.

"No, my brother did. He told me last night. I have everything here for you. So . . . you two left before the end of the night. Didn't even say goodbye. I'm guessing things went well?"

"Lots of things went well," Michonne admitted.

"So, you guys are together?"

She could hear the excitement in Maggie's voice. "I'm not sure what we are. We're still so dumb around each other, not saying what we want."

"Just tell him how you feel. He can be a little obtuse and insecure sometimes."

"I've done that before, remember? Our sophomore year, but I had waited too long and he was dating Lori."

"Oh my God, Michonne. That was like forever ago."

"And the other time but then they got married," Michonne said quietly.

Maggie was silent on the other end, remembering. She had nothing to add.

Michonne blew out a hard breath. "Ugh, this is ridiculous. I guess, I just wanted to see, I just wanted him to put himself out there for once. Tell me what he really wanted, but he didn't."

"He can be a little obtuse and insecure sometimes. Especially when it involves you. He's not dating anyone now. I bet he's been waiting for you."

"Yes, after ignoring me for over six months."

"But he knew you were with Morgan. I'd told him." Maggie sighed. "You're right, you two are being dumb. I'm going to tell him the same thing when I see him."

"Can you come get me? My car's still at Renaissance Lakes."

"Glenn's headed into town to pick up more boxes and bins for Daddy's stuff and to drop off the design for the thank you cards. I can have him pick you up and bring you back here. We'll drop you back off after dinner."

"Can you come? Do you mind? I really want to talk about last night."

"No problem. And I've already got some ideas for next year's gala. This morning, I started a list of what worked and what can be improved upon."

Michonne rolled her eyes; that was not the part of last night she meant. "Okay. But I need to stop by the pharmacy first. Plan B."

"Sure." There was a moment of heavy silence. "Ohhh. Okay, okay. I'm on my way. Right now. I'll see you in twenty-five minutes, thirty-five tops. That's what you want to talk about. I want the details but I don't want all the details, so you'll have to figure out how much to tell me without it being icky."

Michonne hung up the phone laughing to herself as Maggie's words. Maggie would be delighted if her best friend and her brother got together. But how does one talk to their best friend about all the good stuff when it involves one's brother? Michonne went upstairs to change, deciding on a floral print swing dress and heels. It wouldn't be practical for packing up stuff, but she'd look good and Rick would be there.

Ten minutes later, she was back downstairs on her laptop paying her bills when there was insistent knocking at the front door. She wore a puzzled look as she went to answer it, knowing there was no way Maggie could have been there already. She checked the peep hole and her eyes widened. She opened the door to Rick standing there, his curls in disarray and his chest heaving as if he'd been sprinting. He took a few moments to catch his breath, his hand on the jamb.

"I lied," he confessed. "I want more than just last night; I always have. Break up with Morgan. Be with me."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. This story essentially started with them on the couch and grew from there.

I can't tell you all enough how much I appreciate and enjoy your comments and feedback about my work. It really is encouraging. I look forward to the emails telling me I have a new review or a follow or the story's been bookmarked as a favorite. Thank you so much!

I've started the next chapter, but that update will take a little longer. Plus, I've got to do some research about Charleston, lol.

I'm sorry for the delay, I got distracted by this absolutely wonderful and hot piece of art on Tumblr by msdoomandgloom of shirtless Rick Grimes. It inspired a one-shot that I put it on my Tumblr page. It has smut; I think it's kind of tame compared to this but I'll post it here.


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